


to the last syllable

by ineternity



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse, Canon Compliant, Experiment Fic, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I really have no excuses, Loss, M/M, River Song (mentioned), Sci-Fi, Suicide mention, Trauma, for the ongoing twissy drought, probably fluffy later, twissy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-03-09 08:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18913591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineternity/pseuds/ineternity
Summary: The Doctor feels numb to it, there’s a constant ache in a hole that can’t be filled. Caring for his friend had been the endgame, they’d never expected to be anywhere other than a prison but when something changes, everything goes with it... and the Apocalypse has never felt so familiar.





	1. chapter one: the grief that does not speak

It had been 24 years. Logically this was 2.4% through his sentence, it was progress and more than anything it was more than 1%. The first decade had been torture. He should have been happier if it weren’t for the photo on his desk.

It was bad enough catching River’s eyes every time he sat down to mark, he also had Nardole parading around the place, flaunting the memory of his dead wife like a luxury scarf. Maybe it was him? He’d resigned himself to death in the grounds of the University and the more time he spent thinking about it, the more permanent it seemed.

On top of the misery of the last few months following the incident he had other, more sobering memories to deal with. His students had begun singing Bowie songs and donning ridiculously coloured flares to his lectures, everyone had the date on their lips, 1971. The year that so many lives ago he had first seen Koschei again. The Master had never successfully kept a low profile for long but he’d felt something change, definitely. Sitting in his office he’d felt something a stone’s throw away, a presence like two magnets tugging at his hearts. He’d not seen Missy that night or the week after that, leaving an annoyed and wary Nardole to deal with the repercussions until a knock on the door a week later and a short conversation told him the situation was urgent.

He waited an hour then put down his essays and wandered down stairs to the vault’s stony entrance. It was uncomfortably warm on the exterior, the surrounding air made his jacket awkward on his limbs. He knocked- three times- and entered. 

It was colder inside, icy like the frostiness of the winter before making his jacket cling snugly. Missy sat reading in her favourite chair- HG Wells again. She flicked the page, saying nothing as he clambered next to her.

‘I thought you’d be asleep.’

‘It’s mid afternoon.’ Missy scoffs though it lacks venom. She’s tired. He feels a small nag in his stomach for leaving her like this though it is quickly dismissed.

‘I brought you a book,’ he takes the novel from his coat thrown in from the library and sets it on the table beside her. She hums an acknowledgement, exhaling loudly as HG Wells come to rest on her lap. He hoped the book would at the very least stop her complaints till the next visit, god forbid she actually learn from it.

‘Ex-is-ten-tial-ism.’ She drags the word out, slaughtering the tension in the air. ‘Ah Sartre. He was always a pedant- too fond of a drink. Shame about the kidney, he was a handy swordsman when he needed to be.’

The Doctor jolts. Sword fights are ancient history for them. Does she know? She can’t know what year it is, he’d made sure not to let slip of anything on his visits-

There’s a beat.

‘I’m not a child Doctor.’ She’s suddenly serious again, he sighs.

‘I never said you were-‘

‘You’ve been gone for a week. If it’s some sort of egotistical punishment then it’s working.’

‘I don’t think you grasp the point of this. I do have a job.’ He covers quickly.

‘Give the man a medal.’

‘I’m not here for your entertainment, I don’t just come and go like a travelling circus.’

‘You’re right. It would be a shit circus.’ She looks down at her lap again, ‘You’d never keep the acts alive long enough to perform.’

‘Not only are you practically waited on by Nardole, you have me, here, and I can’t leave either. I don’t just saunter away when I feel like it.’ Cynicism definitely necessary, he notes.

‘Well I’m sorry you promised.’ She mutters.

‘I’m sorry too.’

She looks away from him into the artificial sunlight from the windows, suddenly reflective. He can’t see her eyes like this but the air of cold around her psyche tells him they are scowling.

‘Nardole said there was a problem so I’m here. What is it?’

Missy sighs, rubbing her fingers together. 

‘There isn’t any problem. I’m sure he was being melodramatic.’

‘You threw a chair at his head.’

She chuckles.

‘I can see my presence here is much needed. Call me down when you actually want something.’

There isn’t a response after that so he waits for a while before sidling back upstairs to tend to the marking, shifting his eyes to look anywhere but at her.

In the mirror of his office a greyed old man stares back at him. A pair of dead eyes on his desk gazes on in pity.

Time passes on.

It was the middle of the night and the Doctor had adopted his usual position in the observatory of the Astronomy department. He’d done favours for one of the lecturers there more than once including delivering her baby in the University car park so she’d turn a blind eye to his midnight ventures.

From the modified telescope he could see just about to the edge of the galaxy. Most of the planets he saw were uninhabited and cold apart from the odd moon. River used to do this with him on Darillium, it made him smile when she told him stories of her adventures on whichever planet they were looking at. He tell her something stupid like when he was held captive by the teddy bear king and they’d both wet themselves laughing. It was excruciating thinking about it now, a knock at the door spares him the trouble. 

Nardole breathless on the stairs, clutches at his knees. He looks awful, apparently cyborgs were capable of sweat.

‘Sir!’ Nardole wheezes, ‘You have to get down there now. I can’t settle her, it’s getting out of control again.’

The Doctor holds in a sigh, puts away the small book he’d been reading and mentally preps himself as he frogmarches down the stairs to the Vault entrance.

The door opens. He can hear Missy broken sobs from the corner. Through the psychic barrier between them there is an aura of overwhelming despair resonating from every corner of the room

She looks up, her gaze drops just below his eyes like seeing through a ghost. He realises the move of the bed to the other side of the room, a telltale sign of when she was on edge. The darkness of sleep reminded her of death. Nardole should have noticed.

He feels awkward. Before he would have sprung into action, holding her close until she was conscious enough to be annoyed with him again. Now he was numb to it, numb as he taught his students as he was numb to Missy’s fits of panic.

‘Doctor.‘ She sobs against her knees, her eyes glazed over with fresh panic.

‘Yes. I’m here.’

He walks across to her and crouches a few feet away.

‘I can help you. What do you need, Missy?’

‘You don’t understand-‘ she is cut short by a large tremor. Her pulse spikes dangerously as she cries out, hand clenching at the tight fabric of her dress.  
‘Go away. Please.’

‘I can’t. Not until you’re safe.’ He flicks his eyes behind him to the containment field, Missy catches him.

‘No.’ She sniffs, the tears drying defiantly in her eyes.

‘You’ll feel better. I know you will.’

‘I don’t want to.’

‘No. No.’ A melodic cackle, ‘I need to leave.’ 

She picks herself up, begins pacing quickly, gathering up the few objects in the barren space. HG Wells, her small dress brooch, the piano book.

‘Missy you’re not leaving, you could hurt yourself.’

There’s no reply, The Doctor moves towards the activation panel but it’s too late, she’s striding towards the door. It’s open. Shit.

He catches her with firm hands. Missy’s head clashes against his neck, without heels she can only hiss up at him, her arms tensed tightly.

‘Please let go.’ She struggles more violently against his grip, clawing desperately against tense air. ‘You can’t hold me- you can’t.’ There’s pleading in her tone now and a manic trembling.

‘Let me go!’

She’s crying, quaking harder, grip failing. Numb, that feeling again. Just numb.

There’s a blood chilling scream and he feels himself loosen his grip just for a second. Something changes in the air.

They disappear from the room.

It was a snap, like something broke and splintered needles across space. Then it was green, a thin floor of jewelled green grass and warm air under them. Two beats pass, a lark’s call splitting the warm babbling of a clearing. They had travelled.

Missy blinks pointedly. Then she rises like a shot, gasping out the rich air. The Doctor jolts but the moment fades, replaced by stillness.

He stands, allowing the grass beneath his feet to brush hard leather. It was soft. He’d already started analysing where it was, two suns, oxygenated, artificially green grass, it was too unsafe, he’d have to get back to the university before she hurt anything here.

Missy stands, eyes awake, just taking in the air like a statue, arms open, head tilted towards two beating sky lights. Her mouth hangs slightly to soak in the free oxygen, just still- for a moment. 

She starts walking, pacing forward, capturing the air in her hands. The Doctor pursues at a pace just behind, without speech. When she speeds forward he grabs her arm back and locks it in his grip, Missy is jerked towards him but tugs defiantly back on his wrists. He pulls her back in like a string but abruptly lets go. 

She’d slapped him. Hard and stinging like a shot. He stands for a second then starts again. Faster.

‘Missy.’ First with some urgency.

‘Don’t talk.’

‘I can’t let you do this.’

‘It’s perfectly easy. I walk away and you fuck off, we’ve been at it for centuries.’

He stops walking, lets her walk for a second and entertains the consequences of breaking his oath. They had so much time left, he’d thought she was changing but through all the niceties it was hard to see what she really was.

‘You asked me to teach you.’

‘I asked you to help me, there’s a difference.’ She’s twisting her words. The memory of her execution is painful for both of them but he’s adamant this time.

‘Then I’m going to stand here until you come back.’ He instructs her, ‘You can’t walk more than a hundred metres away from me.’ Missy lets out a pained laugh as she holds her speed.

It’s only then he takes a considered look around him. The planet- he’d assumed it was a planet- is overflowing with lush natural greens, it was beautiful if not your average run-of-the-mill forest scape. There’s unnaturally sloped hills towering like camels humps over the tree line in the distance but no sign of civilisation for miles apart from a few flitting birds in tatty nests.

Missy is still walking, it won’t be long till the mechanism kicks in and he can call Nardole to come and fetch them both. He’d rather not electrocute her again but he’s too tired and cranky to treat her like a child.

‘Missy!’

The Time Lady continues, slowing her strides as she wades towards the entrance of the forest before them. His wristband bleeps, warning him of her progress across the field and sending a small shock to the other paired wristband. Her stride begins to falter but she keeps treading forward. The shock should have floored her by now but he’d give it another 30 seconds, Missy had seen much worse. Sure enough he sees her collapse into the grass, breathe for a while then relax into the ground.

‘Stay there. I’ll call Nar-‘

He feels the device torn from his wrist, an unexpected force yanks his side.

A confused ‘wha-‘ spills from his lips, he can’t move his arm, it’s numb, he feels numb. Everything feels too numb. The Doctor sleeps.

In the distance Missy wheezes into life in a stranger’s arms, spluttering up imaginary ashes. She’s alive, so alive.


	2. Data Log (supplementary): ROVER ONE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ROVER ONE- Report detailing specifics of planet surveyed. VOID as of 2278.2

Planet Name: Acquous-EN6

Location: Sixth Galaxy

Planet Formation Date: Delta-Delta-4

Planet Extinction Date: Beta-9

Planet Classification according to Shadow Proclamation Guidelines: Level 2 (little to no possible threat)

Rift activity: High

Dominant Resident Species: Name Unknown

[query] Weapons Systems?: Unconfirmed

Population Classification: Docile

Notable Features: Breathable Atmosphere  
Solar System  
Presence of Water

Potential for colonisation: Positive

Environment Description: Surface appears mostly wooded with little evidence of indigenous civilisation. Ore rich soils present, highly fertile land bearing edible crops with evidence of farming.

Report as follows: Possibility of intelligent life, maintain non-interference policy unless urgent action required. [ADDITIONAL NOTES] After official review planet appears uninhabited, mark as void.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: soon.


	3. chapter two: sigh no more

scanner one: incoming rift activity detected  
scanner two: kickstart rift protocol   
scanner one: affirmative, co-ordinating response now  
scanner two: halt, i'm detecting another energy strand  
scanner one: should i send them both here?  
scanner two: pull them apart, we don't want two to deal with  
scanner one: agreed, i'll redirect one towards the savages  
scanner two: yes, send the other here for examination  
scanner one: we have a confirmed lock, beaming up now  
scanner one: strand safely contained, examination in progress

 

\---

Missy pulls back her arm, there is a clap as palm connects with skin. She turns fast. Walks as hard as she can away from him, to a futile attempt at freedom.

There’s shots of adrenaline pounding at her hearts, it’s the best her body can do to keep walking as the bolts of electricity shock through her.

‘Missy.’ He calls her.

‘Don’t talk.’ 

‘I can’t let you do this.’

‘It’s perfectly easy. I walk away and you fuck off, we’ve been at it for centuries.’ She spits. It’s the first time she’s sworn in years, her mo

He stops walking behind her. Buying her the time to speed up, through thick grasses into painful patches of weeds and thistles. 

‘You asked me to teach you.’

The thistles stab at her legs.

‘I asked you to help me, there’s a difference.’ She lies.

‘Then I’m going to stand here until you come back.’ There’s desperation there now, he’s afraid to lose her. Trying to reach her, voice never raising. ‘You can’t walk more than a hundred metres away from me.’ She lets out a pained laugh, each step crippling her foot.

It’s not far now. Not far until she can zap herself back to sleep. Justify the small attempt for freedom as one of her episodes. The world is getting slower now. Waltzing, twisting, turning.

‘Missy!’ His voice pierces the air. It doesn’t matter, she can feel the grass around her now, smothering her sprawled body.

There's a cry in the distance, the sound of something hitting the ground then a cacophony of noise. Missy sleeps.

—-

She stirs to a pounding in her head and a corset missing. There’s a bitter ache where her wristband clings but the rest of her body feels loose and free. The air seems warm, like the Vault's intricate heating system. She'd lost consciousness and been carried back to sulk probably. So much for adventures. 

'Here comes the chopper to chop off her head.' She mutters under her breath. They'll likely be no visits now for a while, like the time a decade ago with the chair and the teacup. Her irritation at something petty had turned into an excuse to be angry, any excuse to break something. The two years after had gone slowly. Even without even Nardole's tentative mumblings. 

When The Doctor had finally come back she made sure to reposition herself in the same space, make it look like she'd died waiting. It didn't work for long but she'd sensed his heart rate spike. 'Don't be stupid Missy.' He'd chided her and sat down on his chair like nothing had happened. 

It had even got better for a while in the mid-60s, then she'd lost her sense of time and he'd become distant, glaze-eyed, cold even. Keeping promises was hard. Harder than dying.

The bracelet shakes her back to the present, sending a jolt to the cruel chip in her neck. 

'Ngh.’ 

Right. Time to wake up.

She adjusts her senses to the outside world. Something's off. The silence isn't silent enough. This isn't the Vault at all.

It would have been quiet if it hadn’t been for the buzz of noise around her.  
A cluster of voices, they're definitely not in her head. Somewhere in the room- she assumes it's a room- someone is talking. She opens her eyes slowly. The roof above her is a muddy brown, thatched like an old Earth house.

Her body raises itself to a sitting position. She's on a bed. A small crowd of creatures block her view of the outside. They're blurred. Humans?

A few seconds pass and she forgets for a moment who she is before everything occurs to her at once.

‘Where the fuck is my corset.’

A few of the blurs mutter to one another.

Missy tries another approach.

‘If you don’t tell me where my corset is, I’ll skin you. Starting with the scrawny one there.’

The humanoid like creatures blink.

‘I take it back, you’re all disgusting.’

She swings a foot off the bed, it hits rocky ground, the small crowd at the foot of the bed fall to their knees. Missy pauses, tugs the other leg from the makeshift bedsheets and watches as it hits the ground. The strange people fall to the floor, pressing their faces into the soil.

‘Mighty one!’

Oh. This is nice.

‘Master, praise be! Hail the Sky God! Were you sent by him?'

She doesn’t recoil as she’s been taught to, instead something inside her chest gleams with pride. Whoever these people are, they're stupid and already worshipping her, perfect. Whoever this 'God' is- presumably a statue, a hill or some shit on a stick- she could avoid it until she gets enough tech to make a run for it.

‘I was sent.’ There's a sharp intake of breath.

It’s not technically a lie... Okay, maybe it is.

‘Praise be!’

'Oh and before you grovel again, sort out your gender bias. God isn't a 'he' and neither am I.' There's a stunned silence, 'Call me Mistress.'

'Yes Mistress!'

‘Now bring me my corset.’

‘M-Mistress?’

She mimes putting on a jacket and tying the little intricate laces of a corset but all it fetches is blank looks. She does a quiet zipping noise for comic effect.

‘A jacket? Anything?’ The word seems to translate as one of the scrawny looking humanoids lights up and scrambles backwards, bowing out of the room. She can feel the quiet presence of translation circuits in her mind so it can’t be Earth. The presence is almost invisible so the source language must be at least a little familiar, the quieter the hum, the better she can understand.

After brief moment of shuffling one of the wildlings comes back with a pile of cloth, kneels and holds it towards her to inspect. Missy unfolds the material. It’s a jacket but the fabric is primitive, there’s some sort of metallic plating in the lining, an aluminium sheet looking suspiciously like battle armour. She hastily throws it onto the bed. 

'Give us a sign, Mistress, that you are pleased with us.'

Ah, yes. This would obviously be the best time to tell them that she's just passing by, all she needs is a ride out-

A loud bang erupts from the side of her, sending a shower of sparks into the air. It's enough to trigger something instinctive that makes her flinch away. There is noise for a few seconds before the room falls into a stunned silence.

She hadn’t triggered anything, pressed anything but the explosion had come just at the right time. By the look of the sparks it had been something electrical but in a civilisation so primitive? Unless... There had to be a source nearby, the planet had to be in range of more advanced technology, something powerful enough to send a signal across the solar system.

That's it. She had electricity, she had a way out and better still, a way out of the cold metal bracelet that clung to her wrist. The locals could bring her anything she needed and if it came to it they'd make a good bargaining chip if she came into contact with the Doctor again.

Missy looks at her audience. Takes a deep breath.

‘This is my sign. I am your queen, now bring me a proper jacket.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally updated (whew!). I have a break from work for a while now but still writing at the pace of a dead person so thank you for the support! Hoping to post a big collab around Autumn which should spice up the tags for a little while.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is basically my first multi-chapter fic for two years and I’m really excited to put it out on the internet finally. Having refreshed the ship tag every day for a long time I’ve felt guilty about not putting up something I’ve written to fill the gap in uploads that’s happened recently. I still love Series 10 like the day I first watched it and I’m not ready to let go of it.
> 
> I want to see if people want me to write another chapter, if not then I’ll leave this here quietly but I’d love to know what you think!


End file.
